


Hammocks

by tatooedlaura



Series: Backyard Swings [2]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Ficlet, The X-Files Revival, X-Files OctoberFicFest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-23 11:53:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8326858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatooedlaura/pseuds/tatooedlaura
Summary: sequel to "Backyard Swings" ... after Maggie's funeral ...





	

They’d eaten dinner together at the house, using familiarity of plates, tablecloths and dish soap to get them through the evening. Once they’d cleaned up, treating every fork and knife as precious cargo, Mulder turned to lean against the counter, “so, I have a question.”

Scully, who’d been stashing one last container of leftover spaghetti sauce in the fridge, looked over the open door at him, “I might have an answer.”

The slightest tilt of his head told her it wouldn’t be too serious a question but something light and airy to make her, for just a moment in time, feel like normal again, whatever their definition of normal was a day after her mother’s funeral, “did you really think I was bat-crap crazy?”

Her smile was involuntary and completely welcome as it spread rapidly across her face. Shutting the refrigerator door, she walked over to him, “I still think you’re bat-crap crazy. That doesn’t mean I don’t love you just a little bit anyways.”

Pulling her closer, he looped his arms around her back, clasped hands settling on her lower back, “just checking.”

After shifting forward, she lay her head on his chest, “can we stay here tonight? I mean, I know we don’t have any clothes or anything but I just …” he could hear the hitch in her voice, “I don’t want to leave it empty tonight or ever again, really.”

Understanding like only he could, he didn’t mention the plumber that was supposed to be at the gray house the following morning or the fact that he didn’t comfortably fit in any of the beds in the house. She wanted it and he would deliver, feet dangling off the end of the bed be damned.

Then again, she could also read his mind after two decades and some change together, “I know it’s not easy for you to wedge yourself in these beds so I truly appreciate the gesture.”

He laughed at this point, his chest pushing against her cheek in a familiar vibration that made her warm from head to toe, “I was just thinking that.”

“I know.”

Squeezing her tightly to him for another minute or two, “unless you have some other plan at this point in the evening, how about we go test drive the hammock in the back. Maggie mentioned she’d gotten a new one about a month ago but I haven’t taken it out for a spin yet.”

Scully looked upwards at him, “she got a new one?”

“Yeah.” He suddenly wondered if he should feel guilty for knowing something she obviously didn’t, “she, um, she mentioned it when I called her a few weeks back. The ropes broke on the other one when she went to put it up.”

The look on Scully’s face made his heart break. Her eyes filled with tears but stubbornly fighting to keep them from falling and him seeing them fall once they did, she turned away, heading out the back door in silence. Again, thanking the stars that he knew her well enough to know she wasn’t angry at him and that she needed a few minutes to herself, he followed her out, stopping behind her, his hands on her shoulders, nuzzling the back of her ear, “I’m gonna go take a shower. I’ll be back down in a little while, if that’s okay?”

Afraid of her voice at that point in time, she nodded, mentally reminding herself through the depressed fog invading her soul, that she would need to thank him for his understanding.

&&&&&&&&&

Returning 15 minutes later, he stole silently across the kitchen, now bathed in twilight instead of setting sun, to stop at the door. He’d made it through his shower, distracting himself with smells of Maggie’s soap and the roughness of her 30-year-old threadbare towels in an array of colors that Mulder would never in a million years have believed to be housed in the prim and proper dwelling of one Margaret Scully. Now, however, he was back to his quiet reality, empty house inside and empty partner outside.

The hammock had moved its position on the porch so now, as Scully sat in it, he couldn’t see her face, just her legs dangling, her hair hanging down her back, her rounded shoulders, the curve of her hunched form. She didn’t deserve this. No one deserved this but she really and truly didn’t. In the short span of 23 years, she’d lost her father, her sister, her daughter and her son. She’d lost him for a time, then lost him again of his own stupidity. She’d lost Bill to his own close-minded stupidity and stubbornness but borne from the idea and very existence of Fox Mulder. Charlie, from what he had gleaned, had been a good kid but between the loss of his father, his sister, the chaos of Scully’s life and the pain-in-the-ass his brother had become, he’d abandoned her as well.

How she remained standing was beyond him and he marveled at her every moment of every day but, in a jolt of unrequested clarity, he realized he never told her.

She would never have anyone to tell her things again. No one to tell her they were proud of her, that they loved her, that they missed her, that they appreciated her being on the planet and wouldn’t know what to do without them.

He’d never fail her again, even if it meant altering everything he’d ever know, right down to his molecular makeup and genetic disposition to be an utter and total asshole at times. Slipping out the door, he padded across the deck, moving in front of her to crouch down, catching her red, swollen eyes in a look of sympathy so great it made her blink.

“I love you. I appreciate you more than you’ll ever know but I’ll try to make sure you know it, every day. You are beautiful and intelligent and a wonder of a human being and every breath you take makes me the happiest person in this whole damn universe. I wouldn’t be able to live without you here with me and I wouldn’t want to.”

Through the torrent of tears racing down her cheeks, soaking her arms and hands in their rush to hit the ground, she told him, her voice cracking and soaring octaves high, “she’ll never tell me she loves me again.”

Scooting towards her, he grabbed her tightly, burying her face in his chest, “but she did, Scully, you know she did.”

“It’s not the same.”

Her voice still high but now muffled, he pulled back from her, taking her face in his hands firmly, aiming her eyes to line up with his, “no, but it’ll have to do and in the meantime, would you mind if I supplement the love a little. It won’t be the same but I promise to tell you every day that I love you, at least once, with words or by remembering to turn the dryer on or by not letting global, extraterrestrial conspiracies get in the way of dinner.” Watching her nod, he leaned his forehead against hers, mirroring her movement from earlier in the day on the swings, “Maggie once told me that you were her favorite thing.”

“You’re gonna make me cry again.”

“Don’t expect to stop. It’s going to happen a lot so just let it, all right? Don’t fight it. Don’t hide it from me. We’re in this together, you and me.”

“We are?”

“For the long haul.”

“The very long haul?”

“The very, very long haul.” It was then that he scooted her over, settled himself on the hammock much more expertly than in years past and motioned her down with him. Once Scully had wiggled her way to comfort, they both lay, swinging slightly, allowing the evening breeze to caress across them, “Scully?”

“Yes?”

“Will you marry me, someday, on this porch in this backyard with Dagoo sitting on your feet and my future 140 pound black Lab trying to steal your bouquet and the sun just setting and Skinner officiating and maybe my card night ladies hanging out in the background, crying a little and muttering about how it’s about time?”

For the first time ever, she didn’t want to hesitate with her answer, a quiet ‘yes’ drifting up to his ears as she hugged him around the waist, then, as she snuggled his side, “I think we should do that as soon as we get settled in here.”

If he hadn’t already been laying down, you could have knocked him over with something lighter than a feather, “seriously? Even the dog?”  
“You’re supposed to be more happy about the marrying thing than the dog thing.”

Pretty sure Maggie was somewhere, arms folded, knowing smirk on her face, Mulder grinned up towards the sky, “told you she’d say yes eventually, Maggie.”


End file.
